In the Forest of Stone
by Caranthol
Summary: Aragorn crosses the Misty Mountains in a sunny day of May. Not much of a plot here, it is only a little idyllic episode.


In the Gardens of Stone

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or anything else he wrote.

In the Forest of Stone

Aragorn woke up shortly before the sunrise. He had climbed almost to the top of a pass in the mountains the day before. It had been a weary day, rain falling in thick curtain for most of the time, dark grey clouds hanging low in the sky. He would have waited until the weather cleared but didn't want to stop. The news he was carrying were of such importance that haste was needed. He had been far beyond the sea of Rhûn, gathering information about the doings of the Easterlings. They had almost ceased to fight among themselves and emissaries of Sauron were in work. They tried to sway the lords of the East to return to the Dark Lord's service with promises of gifts and power. An uneasy alliance was being slowly forged between the warring tribes and little kingdoms. All Easterlings didn't trust Sauron yet, but soon enough the might of Mordor would have grown so much that the last shreds of hesitation would be blown away.

He was relieved, when he saw that the clouds had cleared and it would be a warm day of May. He was drenched enough by now. Far below him in the east he saw the River flowing slowly and beyond it Mirkwood, as a black line in the horizon. The sun rose fiery above it, colouring Anduin red as blood. A few clouds sailed in the eastern sky, fantastic pink and orange. Even the black Mirkwood looked less dreary in the growing light. Aragorn stretched his limbs while admiring the sight. The going would be much faster than yesterday. He would get almost through the pass by nightfall. He turned and strode up the slope.

In the growing light he saw mountains rising all around him, snow crowning their lofty peaks. The rays of the sun danced on them, glittering like thousands of diamonds. Aragorn's eyes were almost dazzled by the brightness. This day Arien seemed to be especially shining.He looked downwards. There sombre mountain-sides gloomed dark grey or brown. Despite the sun they looked cold and forbidding. Aragorn strode on, breathing the fresh morning-air with delight. The contrast of the colours was always impressive to him, no matter how many times he would journey in these mountains.

At midday he paused for lunch in a place where the path was very broad. Over it a little stream ran down the slope. Its sound was like a merry laughter and Aragorn felt his worries lighten somewhat. After he had eaten he lit his pipe and began to puff strands of smoke contentedly. He gazed thoughtfully down to a green valley almost a thousand feet below him, an oasis of trees among the bare cliffs. A golden haze was over it, giving it a dream-like loveliness. The firs and pines seemed to sleep under a soft blanket of light. It somehow reminded him of Lórien. His mind wandered to a green hill under mellyrn. Scent of elanor and nimphredil filled the air as he walked hand in hand with his beloved. Their eyes met, full of joy, and the stars shone softly on them. There they had plighted their troth.

Aragorn returned to reality. He was again under the sun, so far from Cerin Amroth both in leagues and years. He smiled, and sighed the name of Arwen. Then he stood up and continued his journey. There were still many miles before him.

He stopped again after a few hours. He knew he was only two leagues away from the end of the pass, but the mountains seemed as high as before. As he lowered his pack to ground he heard cries over him. He looked upwards and saw two eagles circling high above the cliffs. He waved his hand to greet them and leaned against the side of mountain. Not a tree was seen anywhere, except a few stunted birches and bushes here and there. He stood and gazed at the majestic scenery before him. In this forest of stone all was bare and cold, but still he felt his heart leap as his eyes rested on the deep ravines, sheer cliffs and narrow paths. Only the Kings of the Birds could live on these trees of Aulë.

Kings... He knew well for what he was destined, and that someday he could maybe sit on a throne. Maybe, if something unforeseen would happen... But now, in the middle of this gigantic scenery he felt very small. After all, he was only a human. Kings would come and go, like leaves opening and then falling, but the mountains would stand here to the very End. They could not be tamed by any hand. Here no one was a ruler. Aragorn pondered this as the sun began slowly to sink towards the west. He stirred from his thoughts and his mood brightened when he thought:

"Maybe I will be King someday, but not a king of wilderness. I will tame the wild woods and raise fields and villages in places where only wolves howled before. I will leave my mark on the world, and hopefully my people will thank me in years to come. Let the mountains reign themselves!"

He started to walk towards the end of the pass. It was late afternoon and the light came almost levelly. Aragorn blinked as he strode onwards. But soon the sun touched the horizon and sunk below it. Aragorn was now in the end of the pass and the land began to run downwards in a shallow slope. He leaned on his spear and breathed deeply. Before him lay the long leagues of Eriador in the vanishing sunlight. All was still as far as could be seen, the wooded hills bathing in the dark red and violet light, gradually dimming into a deep blue. The stars lit on the sky as Aragorn walked down the slope, now almost as fresh as in morning. For he knew that among the hills there was a beautiful valley, where his Evenstar shone.


End file.
